


Why, Then, Can't I?

by ShadowsOffense



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Families of Choice, Family Secrets, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:49:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsOffense/pseuds/ShadowsOffense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah runs into someone picking up a book for her daughter at a local bookstore.  Neither recognizes the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why, Then, Can't I?

She rarely went out to buy something herself. Supplies for the Connor household were acquired through clandestine channels. Bullets, new guns, body armor, advanced military tech John would use to create even more advanced tech, vehicles: they were all gotten through various sources designed to kept them hidden not only from the government, but from Skynet’s terminators. Also, Sarah stuck Cameron with the regular grocery shopping as much as possible. 

This time John and Cameron’s english teacher had assigned a new book when the prior choice ran into too much opposition from parents. Cameron had reported that the old choice was already being read by students not even in that class section, but the new book still needed to be purchased. Sarah had volunteered to go pick it up the next day. She would never admit it, but the house was starting to get on her nerves. “Normal” life activities always had a slightly surreal and uncomfortable feeling for her, but she needed to get out, if only for an hour.

The drive there passed quickly.

The book store was mostly deserted, not unsurprising for midmorning on a week day. The sight of all the shelves, filled with so much knowledge, so much depth of human hopes and history, struck Sarah with an odd bittersweet yearning for what was not yet lost. She stayed clear of the science fiction section.

Finding the right shelf, she grabbed two copies of the book and headed for checkout. Her steps slowed as she passed the children’s section. There were a lot of memories here from her own childhood, again bring a sense of nostalgia mixed with loss… this time for what she had missed experiencing with John. Her hand reached out to touch the binding of a familiar title without conscious thought.

“A tin man without a heart,” Sarah whispered to herself, starting when she got an unexpected reply.

“Excuse me?” A redhead in a business suit, which she wore extraordinarily well, looked over at her from an opposing shelf.

“Sorry.” Sarah colored slightly and held up the book in explanation. “The Wizard of Oz.”

Cool green eyes studied her passively for a moment before the woman held out a hand to take the book. A small frown appeared as she stared down at the cover. “The tin man?” she questioned, pointing at the smiling silver figure whose arm was linked with a pigtailed girl.

“Yes,” Sarah nodded. “Have you read it?”

“No,” the other woman looked back up at her. “It seems an odd choice for a children’s book. I do not wish to frighten Savannah.”

“He’s not really heartless,” Sarah found herself explaining. “He just thinks he is.” She paused as the redhead looked thoughtful. “How old is Savannah?”

“Six. Is that an appropriate age for this story?”

Sarah shrugged. “It’s probably a little advanced for her reading level…”

“I had planned to read it to her,” the redhead cut her off. She looked suddenly vulnerable in a way Sarah hadn’t expected from a woman is such command of herself. “We have not been particularly close,” the redhead admitted. “I am trying to spend more time with her.”

Sarah briefly placed a commiserating hand on the other woman’s wrist, who looked startled at the touch. “It’s a good choice,” she reassured. “And I’m sure Savannah will come around. The biggest thing is that you are trying.”

The redhead regarded her, weighing Sarah’s words. “Thank you.”

“It’s easy to see you care about her.” Sarah readjusted her grip on her own purchases, feeling awkward. Odds were good that neither this child nor her mother would survive the coming apocalypse. She tried to shove the thought aside and nodded a quick farewell, backing away from the moment of connection, of caring.

The redhead watched her retreat as she processed Connor’s parting words. “Perhaps I do,” she whispered to herself, testing the human practice of stating important internal thoughts out loud.


End file.
